Home Sweet Bologna

Well I've spent the decent part of a semester here so I figured I should write something about Bologna. Last night I was Skyping my mom and she asked me what my favorite Italian city has been. I had to think about it for a second because it was strange that the obvious answers of Florence or Rome didn’t come, but then I thought about Sunday night as I was getting off a four-hour train ride from Napoli and the Amalfi coast, bone-tired and freezing cold in the December air. As I was climbing down the three little stairs to the platform I turned back to my friend and said, “Thank god we’re home.” This is my home, and it is an incredible feeling to belong to this Italian city enough to say that. Even better was getting back to my apartment half an hour later to find all eleven of my roommates chattering in the kitchen. They jumped up when they saw me to give me hugs and ask how my four-day trip had been as though I’d been gone for a month. They also saved me a piece of warm chocolate cake right out of the oven.

I figure a lot of people on this blog are interested in finding out about the different abroad programs or tamp down on the pre-departure anxiety of moving overseas. I was the exact same way, absolutely craving information about life in Bologna, so I’m going to talk a little about what my life is like here in between weekend mini-breaks to Nice or Napoli.

On weekday mornings I wake up and head to the centro, a half-hour walk but ten-minute bike ride with my lovely new bicicletta. I head to the little bar/café down the street from our program office, where I’ve made friends with Alessandro the bartender. He lets me sit at my table for hours with my thimble-sized cup of café macchiato and will come over when there’s a break between customers to show me pictures of his new Vespa or a dish he made practicing for his restaurant. I love to sit there reading, munching on a Nutella croissant, and listening to the best of Frank Sinatra.

My classes are wonderful, and all completely in Italian. Right now I’m taking an 19^th century Italian literature course called The Pathos of the Body, a contemporary history course of the new republic of Italy from 1948-2008, a writing course based on Italo Calvino’s short stories and fairytales, and a class at the University of Bologna called Semiotics of Art, which focuses on the scientific reading of symbols in paintings and their effect on the spectator.

On Wednesday afternoons I walk to a gorgeous apartment on a piazza, where I tutor two little girls in English. Beatrice is six and Angelica is eight and they are quite the sassy little ladies. Most of my time is spent tricking them into responding in English, drawing flashcards of apples and princesses and teaching them American pop songs.

On the weekends when I don’t travel, it’s fun to explore Bologna like I’m a tourist here. It’s so easy to take the city for granted so I try to do something new as often as I can. A few weeks ago some friends and I hiked up miles of porticos to the Sanctuary of San Luca, a gorgeous church overlooking the city. It’s a beautiful spot to sit and think, even if you’re not the slightest bit religious, and the hike up is worth it for both the church and the incredible pizzeria down the road from it.   

Nights out are wonderful, and completely different depending on your mood. There’s the classy aperitivi place with giant Aperol spritz’s and cheese plates with honey, fig jam, and warm bread or there’s the Irish bar with Guinness on tap and soccer flags covering the wood-paneled walls. There’s a wonderful jazz bar with Brazilian food where we saw an Ella Fitzgerald tribute concert, and a discoteca with special Erasmus nights for foreign students every Wednesday. It’s like being a kid in a candy shop!

Last but not least is the incredible food. Bologna is known as the food capital of Italy, quite the high praise and completely well earned. I love lunches of the pasta specials at Osteria dell’Orsa, dinners that weirdly always fall on Mondays at the famous Spacca Napoli pizzeria, and trips to trattorias all over town to compare tagliatelle, gnocchi, and Bologna’s famous tortellini. Then of course there’s the late night walks in the rain to get a bombolone donut filled with Nutella and mascarpone and the sunny afternoon stops at your favorite gelateria.

My favorite nights though, are the ones in my big apartment kitchen. On Tuesdays my foodie friends Ari and Alex will come over to try something new (current favorite is goat cheese and red pepper linguine), on nights when she doesn’t have soccer practice with the local women’s team my friend Evie will come over and make me eat vegetables before we watch New Girl, and then of course there’s Josh, universally loved by my roommates and much appreciated by me for his ability to eat four servings of whatever pasta dish I’ve invented that night. Dodging all my roommates in an intricate dance around our two stoves, teasing eachother in Italian, forcing everyone to try our respective dishes with smug smiles, and then serving eight people at once from a large pot of my signature penne arabbiata—it’s my heaven. Fondue night, burgers and beer night, “I have no idea what’s in my fridge but come over anyway” night, they’re the best.

It’s a wonderful life, and if you’re considering it all I can say is come! Bologna is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and thank god I’m coming back next semester or I’d be a wreck.